Heat Not A Furnace
by the-spoon-of-doom
Summary: The war has come to an end, and they have peace. Hopefully this means Megatron will never have to deal with Starscream again, right? ...Right? M/SS Post War AU
1. Chapter 1

Megatron had thought that of all the terrible things to likely spawn out of the current Autobot- Decepticon entente at least the end of the war meant he would never have to sit in the same room as his prickly unhinged Air Commander ever again.

The bright glimmer of pristine white wings across the New-Iacon council chamber told him otherwise.

He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg to lie atop the other as he cast a scowl in Prime's direction, the only mech with the authority to have granted Starscream access to what was supposed to have been a classified and highly sensitive meeting to turn their haphazard entente into a full-fledged faction-wide truce. It was delicate diplomatic work, and Starscream was as skilled at diplomacy as an Insecticon was at Spark Chamber Recalibration.

You wanted neither one anywhere near the other.

Prime eventually caught his gaze and returned his scowl with a knowing look, then turned his back to address one of his lieutenants -because of course the oncoming Starscream-induced slag-storm was only going to work in his and his faction's favour during the final negotiations.

Starscream meanwhile, was quickly making his way through the gathering, heading straight for the empty seat beside his soon-to-be-former leader.

Megatron flung an arm out to his side, blindly searching for a mech - _any_ mech- to yank into the vacant seat beside him before Starscream could claim it. From the indignant blare of surprised monotone the unfortunate victim turned out to be Soundwave, who didn't so much get to sit in the chair as fall over it, just as Starscream arrived at Megatron's side.

"Mooched yourself an invitation, did you?" Megatron turned in his seat to face the seeker, re-composing himself to emit a general air of superiority, ignoring the loud clatter of Soundwave trying to clamber upright.

"As your Second In Command, _you_ should have extended me an invitation." Starscream folded his arms across his chest, leaning back on his heels to look down his nose at him. "But not to worry, you're forgiven. At your age it's a miracle you remembered to turn up yourself."

Before Megatron could reply with something equally as scathing he was interrupted by the scraping of chairs across the floor as the Autobots on the opposite side of the chamber began to take their seats. Prime took the place directly across from Megatron. His Second, Prowl, taking the seat on his right.

"Shall we begin?" Prime's voice reverberated loudly, bouncing against the chamber's high ceiling. He spread his arms wide, gesturing for the remainder of the room to sit.

"Of course." Megatron purred back, offering back a stunted expression that barely passed for a smile. He tilted his helm towards Starscream, hissing through his denta so no one else could hear, " _Sit down_ ," nodding at the vacant seats at the very end of the table, as far away as he could get the seeker.

Starscream made a little noise that indicated he would do as he was told, but probably wasn't happy about it, and Megatron thought, at least for now, that he could focus on setting the tone of the meeting before Prime could start spouting out-dated rhetoric.

Then, instead of retreating to the other end of the table Starscream moved to stand behind Soundwave. He grasped the back of the Third-in-Command's seat and very deliberately tipped him out of it. Soundwave fell to the floor with a loud clang for the second time in less than five minutes. Right in front of the entire Autobot delegation.

Starscream swivelled the empty chair around and took a seat, all dignity and grace as he scooted himself closer to the table, unsubspacing what looked like twelve datapads and dropping them with a slap to the table.

"Now," he said, addressing the room at large since he already had everyone's attention. "I've been through the proposals, and I have a few amendments..."

Prime was staring, dumbstruck. Along the table, Jazz was mouthing (" _a few_?!'') to Ironhide, bright optics flicking warily between his comrade and the stack of datapads as if Starscream was going to begin frisbeeing them across the table like shurikens.

Megatron slumped back in his seat lazily, cheek propped against his fist, wondering how likely Prime would be to call off the truce if he were to throttle his own Air Commander atop the negotiation table.

Though perhaps after a few hours of having to listen to Starscream speak the Autobots would applaud him for it.

* * *

Most of the former High Command, both Autobot and Decepticon, had chosen to reside in secure high-rise apartments closer to the senatorial district, in the heart of New-Iacon. The city was still unstable, Prime had informed Megatron gravely, as if he didn't read his own intelligence reports and had to be reminded of these things.

Unused to living in the privilege of what was essentially an upper-class gated community -and the idea of having Optimus Prime as a neighbour- Megatron had instead opted for a less conventional apartment on the outskirts of the city, closer to industrial developments, where he could watch transport shuttles pass by his window from his berth every morning, engines noisy and close enough to rattle the glass, packed full with more and more Cybertronians returning home for a new life.

For the first time in over a millennia he could lounge in his berth till daybreak turned to noon and do nothing but listen to the soothing blares and rumbles of the chaotic civilisation outside. A repetitive and constant soundtrack, but at least it was better than-

"Megatron!"

Megatron blinked his optics into focus as he swore he just heard a muffled but shrill voice squawking his designation. Either he was hallucinating, or Starscream had broken into his apartment.

He knew for sure it was the latter when the door to his berthroom slipped open and in walked the obnoxiously inconsiderate fiend himself.

"Starscream!" He barked, shooting off the berth and to his pedes before the seeker's thrusters had even crossed the threshold. "What in Primus's name are you doing?!"

"Looking for you," Starscream replied easily, as if there was nothing odd about his unannounced presence in his former-Commander's private domicile. His optics tracked across the room, taking in the humble living arrangements. "You live _here_?"

"How did you get in?" Megatron snarled, shoulders hunched defensively. There was another reason he had chosen a home so far from his former comrades. "How did you find this place?"

Starscream finally met his gaze with a condescending look, "Prime's office."

"What?" Megatron was surprised enough to lose grip on his anger for a moment. "Why would anyone willingly give you information about anything?!"

"No one gave me anything," Starscream shifted his weight to one leg, folding his arms across his cockpit. "If Prime wants to keep confidential information confidential, he should install better security systems."

"You have access to the Autobot's security systems?" A cunning thought began to form in Megatron's processor. With that sort of leverage in the negotiations he could-

"Never mind that now," Starscream waving a servo in his face interrupted his lightbulb moment, "I came to drag you out of your ... _pit_ , for the treaty signing."

"That's not for hours yet," Megatron grumbled, resisting the urge to look back at his welcoming berth beside the windows.

"I know." Starscream moved over the threshold out of Megatron's berthroom, "We can discuss strategy over re-fuelling."

Megatron's processor didn't make sense of the situation until Starscream looked back with a put upon expression, "Are you coming? We're meeting someone."

Megatron supposed he was coming. He followed the seeker out of the apartment, rubbing a servo across his face, feeling no small sense of déjà vu. And to think, he'd been naive enough to believe ending the war would have rid him of Starscream.

* * *

Starscream had a private transport waiting outside the apartment. It blocked an entire traffic lane where it hovered, waiting. Megatron glared at Starscream, but the seeker seemed as unbothered by his dirty looks as he was the blaring horns of the travellers he was inconveniencing.

Inside was as ridiculously gaudy as Starscream's personality. Plush, spacious seating, blacked out windows, entertainment systems, and worst of all... a disco ball. Starscream must have had to blackmail and threaten quite a collection of politicians to have had this put together. Megatron ignored the luxuries and remained standing -or rather looming- over the seeker sprawled across his own seat, intently reading a data-news file.

They were taken to the senatorial distract. It's clear paths and pristine towers reminded Megatron of the Iacon of old, and something unpleasant settled in his tanks.

Starscream dragged him into the 'nearest' fuelling establishment. It was a far stretch from what Megatron was used to- _had_ been used to, before the war. As a miner, as a gladiator, as a rebel insurgent -the waiting staff would have taken one look at him and called the local law enforcement.

At the sight of Starscream in all his sneering, arrogant glory, the over-polished hostess at the door tripped over herself securing them a table in their private dining room.

Now, sat across an extravagantly large table from Starscream, a large and rather threatening looking crystal chandelier hanging over his helm, and a cube of some concoction he couldn't pronounce that looked more like artwork than it did fuel anyway, Megatron wanted nothing more than to throw himself out of the building's opulently stained-glass windows.

"What is this place?" He murmured in horrified awe.

Starscream glanced up from the datapad, and Megatron was surprised he could hear him from such a distance away.

"It's fine," the seeker said stiffly, optics narrow above the datapad. "I come here all the time."

Megatron was about to make a disparaging comment about Starscream's complete lack of taste, when he noticed the seeker's attention shifting to the entrance. Ah yes, they were still waiting for someone. Which made him wonder what part he had to play in this charade.

Starscream _had_ mentioned strategy after all.

"Who is it?"

Starscream looked up again, "Who?"

"The unfortunate clod you've brought me here to help you intimidate."

The seeker lowered his datapad, and Megatron could just about see the gears turning in that mess of a processor he had. Then a dirty smile crossed his face. "Who said anything about intimidating anyone?"

Megatron felt even more uncomfortable, something he had previously thought impossible given his current surroundings. "The treaty signing...?"

"Oh," Starscream waved a dismissive servo, "I've already dealt with that. No, this is a personal matter."

Megatron hadn't felt this out of depth since he had first stumbled out of the mines. "Personal-?"

There was the sound of footsteps behind him and Starscream suddenly stood, smile lighting up the seeker's dark face in ways Megatron had never imagined possible. With a sense of foreboding, Megatron turned-

There was a third mech in the room now.

He was tall, broad shouldered, wearing an expression that implied he was as surprised to see Megatron as Megatron was to see him. His armour was painted the traditionally obnoxious primary colours of an Autobot, and with those insipidly bright, naive blue optics, he did little else but remind Megatron a great deal of Optimus Prime.

A _young_ Optimus Prime.

"I... Starscream, I thought-?" The mech began hesitantly, and his voice, just a shade or two off Prime's own vocaliser, made Megatron want to hit him.

Megatron stood as Starscream began to make the walk around the ridiculously large table, optics locked on the misfit adolescent that somehow, someway, knew his Air Commander... _personally_.

"Let me introduce you. This is Regent," Starscream announced when he finally found his way to the Prime-Look-A-Like's side. Megatron watched a sky blue servo curl around the newcomer's forearm with shocking familiarity as Starscream spoke.

"I- Lord Megatron- sir," 'Regent's' servo thrust out between them, and it took Megatron a moment to drag his gaze away from Starscream to notice how it was shaking.

He took it, squeezing much harder than he needed to before yanking this 'Regent' a little closer to him. "A pleasure." He purred in the same menacing voice he used on the Real Prime. "Any _friend_ of Starscream's..."

"We're actually more-" 'Regent' began before stopping abruptly, and paling considerably. Beside him Starscream didn't look the least phased, watching cooly, like an uninvolved third party.

"Do join us," Megatron finally released him, gesturing back to the table. Starscream was already signalling the staff to bring up another of the decadent cocktails passing for fuel in this place.

Once they had resettled, Starscream a mile down the table and 'Regent' now clutching a cube to his chest as if it could protect him from whatever an ex-Decepticon Warlord might decide to attack him with, Megatron decided a little interrogation was in order.

"So," Megatron took a large drink from his overly sweet cube, using it to brace himself, "How did you meet my Air Commander?"

"Former Air Commander," Starscream's voice drifted across the table before 'Regent' could open his mouth. "We met at the pre-treaty signing last stellar cycle. The one you refused to attend. I had no one else to talk to."

"And you 'hit it off', did you?" Megatron ignored the latter half of Starscream's sentence, his optics locked dead on 'Regent's' quivering form.

"We- we have a lot in common," Regent attempted, albeit pathetically.

Megatron drummed his digits on the edge of his cube, "I doubt that."

'Regent' swallowed thickly, looking to Starscream for help. The seeker stared back apathetically, slouched in his seat, watching the show.

"You're an Autobot." Megatron stated, rather than asked.

"No- yes," 'Regent' struggled, glancing down at the Autobot insignia covering his chest. "I was neutral. In the war. When the truce was announced I-"

"A neutral in war." Megatron placed a fist on the table and leant forward in his seat, "But an Autobot in peacetime." He raised his fist to point at the "Autobot's" chest. "What an incredibly coincidental change of spark you had."

"It. It wasn't like that."

"Oh?" Megatron hissed darkly, wondering how far he would have to push to make the coward curl up like a new-spark, "What right have you to wear that insignia?"

"No I. I was- I _Am_ a pacifist. War is- I don't... I..."

After a few more painful moments of panicked stuttering, 'Regent' allowed his voice to taper off into silence. He stared down at his cube, and fidgeted. Like a youngling.

Megatron crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, that sounds very noble."

Reaching the limit Megatron had been searching for, 'Regent's' chair scraped across the floor as he stood. "Starscream?" His voice sounded weak now, and nothing about it reminded Megatron of Prime. "Are you coming?"

Starscream lifted his half empty cube, "and waste this?"

The coward turned 'Autobot' flushed, cheeks purpling. He left the room without a word.

Starscream had already gone back to his datapads as if nothing had happened, and for a moment, Megatron wondered what _had_ happened.

"Did you enjoy that?" He asked eventually.

"Of course I did," Starscream didn't even hesitate. He threw back the rest of his fuel and let the cube drop back to the table carelessly. "Honestly, these Neutrals. Throwing themselves at me. Trying to elevate their status."

"So you're, what?" Megatron growled, "Humouring them?"

"I'm _having fun_ ," Starscream spat, throwing a handful of units on the table and standing. "You should try it some time."

"Hard to do when every time I turn around I find _you_ there," Megatron also stood, glad to finally leave this place.

"Well, if you weren't so incompetent I could have peacefully retired by now."

"I wish you would." Megatron snapped back, following Starscream out of the room and back into the public area. With so many optics curiously glancing their way he forced his expression into something less murderous.

"Well I wish you'd just hurry up and die already," Starscream ruined the facade by saying loudly, "We don't always get what we want though, do we? So get in the transport or you can walk to the treaty signing."

They were in public, but Megatron didn't think there was any media about. He could probably get away with strangling the seeker. Civilian witnesses were easily bribed after all.

* * *

There was a blissful Starscream-free stellar cycle when Megatron left New-Iacon to oversee the Grand Opening of a Kaon's first ever Science Academy. Though he detested the idea of wasting time posing for the media and shaking sleazy servos, Kaon was a welcome change to the endless meetings and paperwork of his office in New-Iacon. It was probably the closest he had come to a vacation for the first time In his existence.

His return to New-Iacon involved a quick brief on current events from Shockwave (boring), followed by his treaty bound audience with Prime (excruciating). He was just on his way to the Prime's offices on the opposite side of the senate building, when Starscream jumped out from behind one of the pillars in the hallway.

Had Megatron still carried his fusion cannon he would have blasted the idiotic seeker in the face.

"Didn't scare you, did I?" Starscream raised a suspicious brow, leaning back against the pillar.

"No." Megatron took a deep intake of air, trying to calm his spark, "Is this what your post-war career has amounted to? Lurking behind pillars, terrorising innocent passersby?"

"I happen to hear a lot hiding behind these pillars," Starscream gave his a pat, as if to say it had done it's job well. "I checked your schedule on Shockwave's system. Thought I would catch you before Prime."

"You're beneath my notice," Megatron started walking again. He lengthened his stride to inconvenience the shorter seeker when Starscream began to pursue him. "I'm running late."

"You're not." Starscream had unsubspaced a datapad. "There's a neutral faction trying to lobby some support for the old 'War-Frame Flight-Restriction Act'. You know, the one Sentinel Prime passed just before you massacred him?"

Megatron's optic twitched, but he didn't slow his pace, "I remember."

"Well it's stirred up the media. Gotten them noticed." Starscream used the datapad to tap him between the shoulder blades. "They'll be at the Tyger-Pax Commemoration Banquet tomorrow evening."

"I won't be."

"Yes, of course." Megatron could tell Starscream was sneering and making faces at him behind his back. "Lets just let Prime's lackeys and a cabal of bigoted nobodies nab all the headlines and public support because the ex-Cons are all a bunch antisocial hermits."

"Insipid sarcasm," Megatron glanced over his shoulder at the seeker's grumpy face. "Just what I like to hear."

They had reached the lobby of Prime's offices now. Megatron stopped just out of audial range of the secretarial drone, wary of eavesdroppers. "Prime will not let that act anywhere near a council chamber."

"This isn't about the act." The seeker stood his ground, "This is about reminding them," Starscream gestured to the senate building at large, "All of them, that we are still a political force to be reckoned with. Maybe then they'll think twice before resurrecting biased legislation."

Megatron hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps..."

"Good." Starscream interrupted quickly, thrusting the datapad at him. "Read this. It covers the guest list. Memorise it. We'll be making _friends..."_

"We?" Megatron's spark sank with dawning horror.

"You'll be escorting me, of course."

"...What?"

"To the banquet," Starscream said darkly, expression threatening a scene right in the middle of the lobby should Megatron refuse. "Unless, you're arranging to accompany someone else?"

Megatron desperately wracked his processor for a designation he could just toss out, anyone to save him from this fate. But none came to him.

"No?" Starscream smiled nastily. "Good. Pick me up at twenty hundred hours. I'll comm you the address."

"The banquet starts at nineteen hundred." Megatron reminded him, glancing at the event brief on the datapad. He raised an optical ridge. "We'll be late."

"I know how to tell time." Starscream sneered at him, one servo propped on his hip. "You'll need the extra hour to make yourself look presentable. And you Will. Make. Yourself. Presentable." He said with added force, pointing at him.

"...Twenty hundred hours." Megatron repeated, hoping compliance would make the seeker go away.

"A true gentlemech," Starscream smirked in victory, wriggling his claws at him in some semblance of a wave as he left.

Megatron stared after him, filled with dread.


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron had considered the risks of standing Starscream up. The seeker knew where he lived, had no difficulties in getting past his security systems, and -having been raised amongst the high caste- would take considerable offence at such an affront. It was hardly worth the risk of waking up one morning to find himself sharing his berth with a decapitated helm.

Most likely his own.

Starscream's apartment was as impractical as the seeker himself. Situated on the uppermost floor of Volatus Point -a tower built exclusively for flight capables- there was no access in or out of the apartment save for it's balcony. No stairs. No elevators. Perfectly acceptable for residents sparked with thrusters and wings. For Megatron, standing one thousand feet beneath what he assumed was his Air Commander's apartment, it wasn't very helpful.

For a spilt second he wondered if he could climb it. If that would impress Starscream, or incense him? Then he thought of a way to annoy the seeker that required a lot less effort on his part.

He opened up his com and hailed the seeker's frequency.

" _Yes_?" Stasrcream's voice snapped. He already sounded irritated, and the night hadn't even begun.

"Oh Rapunzel, Rapunzel." Megatron replied, in lieu of a greeting, knowing Starscream would pick up on the organic cultural reference. "Won't you let down your hair?"

The com disconnected abruptly, and Megatron watched the balcony for some sign of movement. Eventually a glint of red and white appeared behind the barrier. He could tell the seeker was looking down at him in disgust, even from all the way down here.

Rather than jumping and using his thrusters to slow his descent, Starscream threw himself from the balcony, performed two loops and a barrel roll, and landed with a skid some distance away from Megatron. Show off.

"I told you not to pry into that squishy 'internet'. It's addled your processor." Was the first thing out of Starscream's mouth as he crossed the distance between them. Now that he was closer (and not moving faster than the speed of sound) Megatron could see that he had had himself repainted. Same colour scheme, but the patterns of the red and white had shifted on his armour. It made him look sharper. Slimmer even. Much less like a war-build. Probably some ridiculous fashion craze-

"What are you staring at?" Starscream's abrasive voice cut off his thoughts.

Megatron blinked himself back to the present. "What have you done to yourself? You look like you're on your way to perform burlesque."

"It's called colour blocking, you walking billboard," the seeker's optics tracked up and down his frame, mouth curling in disappointment. "I told you to look presentable."

Megatron looked down at himself. He had washed. Wasn't that enough?

Starscream's sigh was long suffering. He caught Megatron by the elbow, and the former warlord nearly shucked him off when the contact made an odd tingle shoot up his back strut. "It's a ten minute trip," the seeker was saying absently, leading Megatron towards their waiting transport. "I'm sure I can do something..."

* * *

Violated.

Megatron had been violated in the back of Starscream's souped-up luxury cruiser with a polishing cloth and a can of what smelt like jasmine polish.

"Glad you could make it," Prime's powerful servo clamping down on his shoulder broke him out of his post-traumatic trance. "You look good, old friend."

Megatron grunted in response, nodding noncommittally. Beside him Starscream's rigorously polished armour glistened in the golden overhead lighting, a beacon of obnoxiousness drawing all the other guest's attention away from the ex-Decepticon warlord. But with the amount of sycophants attending this party, he was actually thankful.

They were months into their truce, but it still felt disconcerting being in such closed quarters with so many he had once considered mortal enemies. Some he still did. The Prime was flanked by his close confidants, Ratchet and Ironhide, both of whom were glaring at Megatron with the full force of their disapproval, likely amazed that he had even had the audacity to turn up.

"Evening Prime," Starscream announced loudly, satisfied only with the entirety of _everyone's_ attention. He glided in between them, planting a servo on Megatron's chest like he owned him, digits splayed possessively. The touch warmed something in Megatron's core, though he couldn't help feeling something like the seeker's accessory.

"Might we have a word?" Starscream continued, optics flicking to Prime's lackeys. "Alone?"

"No politics tonight, Starscream," Prime fielded carefully, "This is a social gathering-"

"The commemoration banquet?" The seeker interrupted, and though his expression was calm and serene, Megatron could feel the pinpricks of claws beginning to dig into his armour. "If _this_ isn't a political occasion..."

Megatron took Starscream's servo in his own, removing it from his chest before it left gouges in his armour, squeezing hard in warning. "Make yourself useful," he told the glaring seeker, interrupting before Starscream caused an incident, "Find us some drinks."

Starscream stared back at him hard, before scornfully yanking his servo free. He turned to Prime, hissing through gritted denta, "Excuse me."

They watched Starscream swan off, parting the crowd easily.

Prime cleared his throat, subtly gesturing for his comrades to give them some room. Megatron wished they wouldn't. He and Prime hadn't been left to their own devices in over a million years without it having turned into a fist fight.

"I'm pleased to see you and Starscream have finally put your differences aside," Prime told him graciously. "I always thought you would have made a good match."

Megatron frowned, "A 'good match'? In the gladiatorial pits, perhaps..."

Prime looked confused behind the mask, "Then you're not...?"

"Not what?"

"Here," Starscream's return abruptly ended the conversation. He thrust a cube -high-grade from the smell of it- into Megatron's chest. "Next time get it yourself. Lazy oaf."

"It was good seeing you both," Prime suddenly announced, as if only just now coming to the realisation that interacting with them both at the same time would do little good for him or his Autobots. "I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of each other in the council chambers in the coming weeks, Megatron." He nodded, then bent lower for the seeker. "Starscream."

"Off to ingratiate himself with those credit inflated neutrals, I suppose," Starscream groused when the Prime was out of audial range.

"Yes," Megatron rolled his optics and began looking for the exit, "A true waste."

"Where are you going?" Starscream demanded, catching his wrist and drawing him back.

"Home."

"No." The seeker's optic twitched, "I didn't spent hours on 'this'-" he gestured to himself, "-just to end up in berth before midnight."

"Then stay." Megatron growled, hardly bothered with the seeker's excessive grooming. "I don't see why I should have to suffer this indignity in the first place."

Starscream looked scandalised, "You're abandoning me?"

Megatron was actually quite offended at the implication, "I am not..."

"-With Autobots and Neutrals." The seeker continued, "and Prime!"

"You'll be fine," Megatron snarled, struggling to keep his temper in the crowded hall. Media loitered around the edges of the room, cameras and data-pads at the ready. He could see the morning headlines now, _Psychotic Warlord Assaults Seeker At Peace Treaty Banquet_. "With your regal heritage, you'll fit right in."

He meant it as an insult and Starscream took it as one. There was a moment when he thought the seeker might actually instigate the violence, his sky-blue servos shaking in fury, before it passed. Starscream turned on his heel and disappeared back into the multicoloured crowd of armour. Megatron watched the spot where he'd vanished, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

The cube the seeker had gotten him was still warm in his servo. Quickly he downed it, relishing the burn as it hit his tanks, kickstarting his charge.

"Megs?" A delighted sounding voice called to him.

Ready to throughly reprimand the butchering of his designation, Megatron turned his helm to the source of the indignation, thunderous scowl in place. It faltered when he was faced with the elegant -but no less deadly- face of Elita-One, smiling at him like a much missed friend.

Her arms were open as if to embrace him, and he nearly tripped over his own pedes.

"I didn't think you'd come," she lowered her arms, thinking better of it.

"I didn't think you were planet-side." He replied, glancing over her helm at the crowd, wishing he hadn't so hastily shooed Starscream off. Elita was dangerous in ways he couldn't combat.

"Arrived this morning," she nodded, still managing to smile. "With the truce finalised, thought I might spend a little more time here." Her optics wandered to somewhere left of Megatron's shoulder, and her voice turned wistful, "Optimus and I have waited so long..."

The conversation was turning very personal, very fast. Megatron backed away a few paces. He tried not to sneer as he replied. "Yes, how wonderful for you."

She refocused her attention, optics darkening knowingly, "What about you," her smile had an edge to it now, "Saw you come in with Starscream?"

"Yes, you and the rest of Cybertron," Megatron grumbled under his breath, thinking the glow from Starscream's armour could have been seen from the next solar system over.

"We had a betting pool you know." She said, apropos of nothing. She lifted her cube, hiding her mouth behind it, "on how long you would take."

"For the truce?"

"Oh." Elita arched an elegant brow, optics brightening, "Something like that."

Their conversation had gone from disconcerting to just plain weird, and frankly, she was probably a little charged. He gingerly nudged her in the direction of Prime, hoping she'd find her way. She waved a servo at him in farewell, winking like she knew something he didn't.

Megatron hoped to Primus he never interacted with her again outside a professional environment.

His desire to leave renewed, he headed for the large open doors. Some little thought in the back of his mind wouldn't leave him alone though, a lingering feeling of guilt. He hadn't wanted to come to this ridiculous charade in the first place. He was hardly _abandoning_ Starscream. And it wasn't like the seeker couldn't handle himself amongst the increasingly charged masses of Autobots...

With a furious noise Megatron turned back inside, helm craned high in search of the familiar arch of Starscream's wings.

He spotted them by the bar, thankfully still attached to the seeker they belonged to. It was only when he manoeuvred further into the swelling crowd of politicians desperate for high grade that he noticed the seeker wasn't alone.

Starscream was sat on a barstool, and sat sideways across his lap was a cerise coloured femme with a petite frame. Her arms were wound around his shoulders, her coral painted lips pressed close to his audials as she spoke intimately to him.

The spark in Megatron's chest burned hotter than an exploding sun.

Starscream's own servos rested on her hip and thigh. His denta shone brightly as he smiled. Their noses brushed before lips closed together in a kiss. There was glossa.

Of all the immature-

Starscream's optics onlined into slits and caught his gaze. Megatron saw his mouth curve into the kiss as he smirked. Like he wanted Megatron to see this. Primus knew why.

Megatron sneered back at the promiscuous little brat, turning and retreating into the crowd.

* * *

Megatron opened his data-pad to the news first thing the next morning, and was greeted with a blown up image of him and Starscream, standing side-by-side before Prime. Starscream was leaning in close to him, his servo resting intimately on his chest. The title read ' **Exclusive. Decepticon Dalliance: The truth at last**.'

Half awake and overcharged from the night before, Megatron had thrown the datapad against the wall the moment he'd seen Starscream's devious face. As a result he had to drag himself out of his lair and into the world in order to purchase another news-pad. The only thing worse than being the morning headline, was not knowing why.

"Suing; detrimental to public image," Soundwave told him some hours later in his office at the senate.

Megatron brandished the data-pad at him again, "Did you read it?!"

"Affirmative." Soundwave nodded calmly, "Twice."

Megatron fumed, turning the file around to look at it again. Searching for that once sentence in particular, '... _sources close to the former Air Commander have confirmed the nature of the relationship as intimate_...' He slammed his fist into the desk, denting the metal.

"Why isn't that seeker answering his comm?" He demanded for the third time since Soundwave had arrived, trying, and failing, to hail Starscream. Though taking last night into consideration, he was probably still in the clutches of that femme from the bar. "Which one of his idiot trine is telling them this?"

"Sources; falsified." Soundwave stated, but Megatron was fairly sure he was just saying that to calm him down.

"I want you to send out a statement," Megatron stood behind his desk, too restless to remain seated. "Tell them I wouldn't touch Starscream's over-polished backside with a ten foot pole!"

Soundwave didn't verbally refuse, but everything about the way he was staring at Megatron implied he wasn't going to do that.

"It's vile!" Megatron snapped again, pacing, arms clasped behind his back, "the implication that I would be involved with a subordinate. This is Starscream's fault." He stabbed the data file on his desk, right over the image of the seeker, "Him and his cursed flirting."

"I will endeavour to have the story removed," Soundwave finally said, pushing himself to his pedes and sounding very tired. "And continue attempting contact with Starscream."

Megatron sat down heavily, sinking back in his seat. "Wipe all public appearances from the schedule."

Soundwave paused, before bowing him helm. "As you wish, Lord High Protector."

* * *

Aside from Prime occasionally bullying him out of the senate building for 'casual' meetings in the odd fuelling establishment, and on one hateful occasion the park (to _enjoy the weather_ ), Megatron managed to avoid all aspects of public life. It was a difficult feat indeed. The Autobots were rather over-fond of their parties, and fonder still of inviting him.

Tonight was the half vorn anniversary of the unofficial entente, and rather than letting the date fade into insignificance like all normal citizens would, Prime and his gaggle of lackeys had decided to set up a formal gala to commemorate it.

When Prime had personally handed Megatron his invitation it had gone straight from his servo to the trash -to Megatron's instant regret. Not even he was immune to the guilt tripping a woeful Prime could generate.

Still, he hadn't gone.

The evening was far better spent reclined on his berth, the data-pads of half finished paperwork illuminating his reflection in this wide windows as he watched the distant lights of New-Iacon's city centre.

His comm started to flash. Drowsy, and annoyed that someone would call at such a late hour, he answered it with an irritated, "What?"

There was a breathy sigh on the other end, " _It's me_." A scratchy voice answered.

Megatron sat upright on his berth, datapads knocking to the floor. "Starscream?"

" _I waited all nigh_ t." The seeker sounded annoyed, as if Megatron had called him, " _where were you_?"

"Why are you calling me?" Megatron demanded, of half a processor to just hang up on the seeker. They hadn't spoken since the night of the banquet, and he had begun to suspect Starscream was avoiding him.

He could hear the sounds of the city in the background, and the rush of air that implied Starscream was flying, " _You weren't at that trice cursed gala_!"

Megatron refocused his audials to hear him better over the static, "The gala?"

" _I wanted to see you, idiot_." The whistling of wind had died down, and the traffic of the city was muffled. Starscream must be inside now, wherever he was. " _Stuck talking to insipid Autobots all night.._."

It was only now that Megatron could hear the slur in the seeker's voice. He was overcharged.

"You have no one to blame for that but yourself," he grumbled, swinging his legs off the berth to stand.

" _You should have been there,_ " there was a slam, and Megatron could almost imagine the seeker, stumbling around his apartment in a drunken state. " _What was more important?!_ "

"Paperwork." Megatron grumbled, shifting through some of the files on his desk until he found the news-pad. He updated it, watching it load 'most recent stories'. Pictures of the gala began cropping up.

" _Don't lie to me_ ," Starscream slurred angrily, and Megatron found himself smirking, despite the oddity of the situation. He started to record the conversation, thinking he could use it to humiliate the seeker in future.

"You're overcharged, you ridiculous creature," Megatron told him, flicking through the gala images, skipping past Prime and his entourage. "Sleep it off."

" _No, I'm coming over_."

"You'll fall out of the sky," Megatron said, mostly to bait him. Some small part of him wanted to witness this first hand. In all the millennia he'd known Starscream, the seeker had never drunk much past tipsy.

There was a muffled thump, like Starscream had landed on something soft. A chair? His berth, hopefully. " _I want to talk to you_."

"We're talking now." Megatron murmured, lifting the news-file as he finally came across a picture of Starscream. He wasn't the focus of the image. Blurred in the background, scowling at merry making Autobots, clutching an energon cube to his chest like it was his last friend in all the world.

 _"I never thought this could happen_." Megatron zoomed in on the image of Starscream's scowling face as the seeker rambled on. " _Doesn't feel real._ "

"What doesn't?"

There was a sound like a yawn, the rustle of fabric, like Starscream was shifting against berth covers. " _Coming out the other side. Being alive. Being here. With you.._."

"Starscream?" Megatron lowered the datafile and glanced out his windows. One of the lights in the distant skylines would belong to Starscream's apartment.

There was a hummed response, more fabric rustling. " _Keep talking..."_

Megatron frowned, "Why?"

" _S'nice_."

Megatron stared at the comlink on his wrist for what felt like a full minute. "I'm hanging up. Go to recharge."

He heard Starscream emit a whine before cutting the com, and his apartment suddenly felt very dark, and very empty. He glanced at the blurred image of the seeker on the datapad again, before snorting in derision and tossing it aside.


	3. Chapter 3

Megatron didn't see Starscream again until the opening of the War and Peace Memorial. It was a fifty foot, cringeworthy cast-iron statue of two mechs grasping each other's forearms. The mechs resembled neither himself nor Prime in any distinguishable way, but that wasn't going to stop Megatron from feeling supremely embarrassed when the hideous thing was finally uncovered.

Prime was on the podium, giving his speech to the crowd filling the city square, sprawling beyond Megatron's vision. The masses waved their banners and cried out their adoration. The only reason Megatron didn't roll his optics at the spectacle was because the media would inevitably capture the moment.

On the other side of Prime's podium, as far him from as seemingly possible without being out in the crowds themselves, Starscream was stood amongst his trine.

Megatron watched him for a long while, waiting to catch his optic. But the seeker remained resolutely staring forward.

"-start of a new prosperous age of peace, solidarity, cooperation-" Prime was carrying on, apparently listing all the synonyms for unity because the speech wasn't long enough. Starscream couldn't possibly be listening as intently as he was pretending to be.

Beside Starscream, Skywarp glanced his way, and Megatron _did_ catch his optic. He also saw Starscream harshly elbow his trine mate, muttering something out of the corner of his mouth. Skywarp's gaze turned frontwards.

They were ignoring him.

Megatron's mood soured considerably, and he was sure this evenings news would be plastered with pictures of himself scowling at the opening of the War and Peace Memorial, and Soundwave and the rest of his Public Relations team would certainly quit.

Prime had finally stopped talking, and now was time for Megatron to play out his minuscule part in this event. He came forward with Prime, each of them grasping the edge of the vibrant purple sheet covering the statue, and together pulled it off.

The crowd cheered, cameras flashed. He had to stand in place for the pictures, and though Prime's face mask meant he could be pulling any expression, Megatron didn't have such a luxury.

"Historians in the far future are going to see these pictures," Prime leant ever so slightly towards him to murmur. "And they're going to wonder why you were so miserable."

When Megatron was finally released from the constraints of the press, he was annoyed to find that Starscream had long since disappeared. And this had been the only event for the next two months they had both been scheduled for.

"Suggestion." Soundwave came out of nowhere behind him, and Megatron's spark nearly leapt out of its casing. "Arrange a private audience between yourself and Starscream."

Megatron bristled, "What makes you think I want to see him?!"

Soundwave stared at him silently.

Megatron snarled in irritation and stalked in the direction of the Autobot delegation. The sooner he exchanged empty pleasantries with them, the sooner he could leave. Halfway through the torture of listening to Jazz gush on about his and Prowl's new home in Praxus, Megatron caught sight of two dark purple wings. Skywarp.

He waved Jazz's story to a finish and quickly excused himself.

Skywarp was sitting on the steps beneath the memorial, waiting. Megatron hadn't seen the seeker since the very beginning of the negotiations, which seemed so long ago now. He hadn't changed much. His smile was broader perhaps, his armour better kept; but he was much the same seeker.

"Hey," he said with none of the respect of someone addressing a superior officer. Then, Megatron supposed he wasn't anymore.

"Skywarp," he nodded, looming over the jet when Skywarp didn't move to stand. "Your trine left rather quickly."

"Busy mechs." Skywarp shrugged, then with all the subtlety of a fusion cannon to the face, said, "You still single? Asking for a friend."

"What?" Megatron demanded, veering back.

"I can set you up, you know?" Skywarp snapped his fingers as if struck with a sudden thought, "Hey! Screamer's available, I can get- hey no, wait! Don't walk away!"

Megatron fled for the safety of the barriers, where Skywarp wouldn't be able to get past Prime's security.

A pattern had begun to appear in regards to his former-second: and where there were patterns, there were plots.

* * *

Megatron avoided Autobots like they harboured cosmic rust. This was done out of both his willingness to keep the peace, and a healthy sense of self preservation. It was not a tactic shared by Optimus Prime, whose unerring ambition in bringing both factions together like one big happy family would never fade.

"It's not an agenda," Prime was leaning into his office desk, servos clasped together in front of him like a plea. "It's just a party."

Megatron, leaning _away_ from said desk, only felt more sure of his answer. "I'm not going."

"No politics," Prime started counting on his fingers, "No media. No neutrals. It's nothing but a casual get together for old friends-"

"I've tried to kill half the guest list, Prime." Megatron growled, optic twitching at the implication that any of his 'old friends' were still alive. "Your obsession with manipulating me into these situations is getting out of hand."

Prime's infuriatingly blue optics brightened in faux surprise, "I would never manipulate you."

"You asked me here to discuss health legislation."

"Yes, well," Prime waved his servo, "That can wait for another day. Now, are you coming?"

"I would rather be thrown out of a moving train."

"I have invited Starscream." Prime pressed, as if the troublesome seeker's attendance was going to change Megatron's processor. "He accepted."

Megatron grunted.

The Autobot settled back in his seat, "I told him you wouldn't be coming."

"...and?" Megatron tried not to sound too interested.

"Soundwave mentioned you had some sort of... disagreement," Prime explained, and really Megatron had had no idea the leader of their entire planet was such a gossip. Nor Soundwave for that matter. "That he's been avoiding you?"

"I don't speak to that idiot seeker often enough for us to disagree on anything," Megatron growled, deciding to squash the rumour before it spread. Or worse, the media caught wind. "And you'll have to inform him that he _won't_ be spared of my company after all."

"Oh?" Prime was trying hard to sound taken aback at such a sudden change of mind. He was a very bad liar. "So you _are_ coming?"

Megatron pushed his chair away from Prime's desk, feeling the same sense of ominous finality of someone about to throw themselves off a cliff as he said, "My evening just opened up."

* * *

Logically, Megatron knew that Prime did not live in a palace, though Optimus's general air of grandiose and regality often lead to the impression. Still comparatively large, Prime's home was quite humble, lacking the open halls and towering pillars Megatron knew most of the previous senates' accommodations wouldn't have been without.

The gathering was smaller than the large governmental events he had grown used to, and Prime had been true to his word. Megatron knew every face there from having spent so many thousands of years shooting at them.

"I thought you weren't coming?"

Megatron turned his helm towards to the source of the voice, and there was Starscream, loitering just beyond the entryway. Like he had been waiting for him to arrive.

" _Hoped_ I wasn't?" He corrected, unable to help himself.

Starscream sneered, "You hate this sort of thing. Did you come here just to spite me?"

"Don't be so arrogant, Starscream," Megatron lied, "Not everything is about you."

The seeker's optic roll was disbelieving. He began moving to turn away, "I'll leave you to your skulking then."

"Yes, I suppose you'll want to get an early start on flaunting yourself about the room."

"I'm sure you'll have fallen asleep in one of Prime's armchairs long before then, you dilapidated husk..."

Megatron felt his temper rise, denta clenched, "Watch your tone, brat-"

"Just like old times, huh?!" Suddenly, Skywarp's grinning face appeared with a signature flash beside them, swinging his arms over their shoulders in a completely inappropriate show of familiarity.

Megatron had jumped at the seeker's appearance. Starscream, obviously more used to it, had not. And that only annoyed Megatron more. He shoved the purple seeker off, levelling Skywarp with the same sort of glare he usually reserved for politicians and paparazzi. "What are you doing here?" He asked, because Skywarp hadn't been on the guest list Prime had supplied.

"I'm a plus one," Skywarp's arm noticeably tightened around his trine leader's shoulder.

Megatron found himself teetering back on his pedes as he struggled to observe them. Together. As a _couple_. "You're...?"

"Primus no!" Starscream snapped with considerable disgust, shucking Skywarp off. "As if I would _ever_ -!"

Skywarp cupped a servo to his mouth, leaning towards Megatron and pulling a distraught face as he stage whispered, " _Screamer's date stood him up._ "

The knot that had tightened in Megatron's tank loosened considerably at that news. He found himself smiling. Starscream must have taken it for gloating however, because his expression continued to darken.

"Skywarp." He snapped in the clipped cadence of the Air Commander he once was, "Work the room."

"Huh?" Skywarp looked befuddled, and Starscream had to bodily shove him in the direction of the other mingling guests, hissing through his gritted denta for Skywarp to, "Just tell them some jokes, you idiot."

The immediate vicinity now clear of unwanted trine mates, Starscream swung back to Megatron. "I wasn't stood up."

Megatron had no idea why Starscream felt he needed to know that. He struggled to respond in any dignified manner, and had to settle on a passive, "Of course not."

"I cancelled on him." Starscream continued, and his face had actually purpled a little under his optics, like a blush. A trick of the light perhaps. "Prime told me you were coming, and I knew you'd cause a _scene_." He drew that last word out with a sneer.

"I care little for what reprobate company you keep," Megatron glanced deliberately in Skywarp's direction, where the seeker was waving his arms about as he told what must have been a very animated joke. "And even less so for the unfortunate sparks you drag into your berth."

Starscream inhaled sharply, and experience told Megatron he was about to start shrieking. But Prime's home was a far less appropriate location for a screaming match than the weathered bridge of the _Nemesis_ had been, and Starscream swallowed it down, face an even darker shade of indigo. "Better my berth than your coffin."

He twirled on his heel and strutted off, wings and nose high in the air. The temptation to chase him down and get the last word in dwindled when the seeker slipped in amongst the guests surrounding Elita-One.

No amount of witty comeback was worth Megatron putting himself under her scrutiny. He found a cube, and then a comfortable seat along the edge of the room. An hour or so would be enough to satisfy Prime, and then he could slink off back to the solitary of his own apartment.

Somewhere on the far side of the room Starscream's cackle was loud and obnoxious. Megatron scowled and downed his entire cube in one.

* * *

Somewhere between the first and second hour, Prime's dignified evening had descended into a raunchy, overcharged rave. Elita had obviously over ordered the high-grade, assuming (rightly so) that the two factions wouldn't be able to interact in any civilised manner without the influence of some sort of intoxicants.

Megatron, sulking from the sidelines, was only slightly buzzed, and therefore sober enough to appreciate just how hammered his fellow guests were. Prime had lowered his face mask and was sipping high grade through some ridiculous novelty straw, Ironhide was stood on a table and appeared to loudly re-telling some half forgotten tale of battle, and Skywarp had managed to seduce and subsequently sandwich himself between the two Autobot twins.

It was amusing to watch, but when Arcee began to challenge everyone in her vicinity to an arm wrestling contest, and then proceeded to win against the likes of Soundwave and Brawn, Megatron decided put a little distance between himself and the revelry before he too lost his dignity to it.

There was a balcony at the end of the hall, long crimson curtains framing it's archway and providing a sense of privacy for it's occupants. Megatron stepped out onto it, taking a deep breath of the night air, helm tilted back to appreciate the glittering canvas of stars above. The city noises drowned out the party inside just enough for Megatron to forget he was part of it.

He crossed the balcony to lean his weight against the barrier, but was stopped short when he caught a glimpse of red.

"I was here first." Starscream was sat precariously on the edge of the barrier, legs crossed at the knee, wings hung low. His optics were dim and hooded, and his vocaliser heavy with charge. "And I don't feel like sharing."

Megatron leant his hip against the barrier anyway, facing the seeker, arms crossed over his chest. "Having fun?" He asked, only just realising that he hadn't seen much of the seeker at all since he first arrived.

Starscream snorted, swaying slightly over the edge. Megatron's digits twitched at the sight, thinking for a moment the drunken idiot was going to teeter over it. But Starscream rightened himself, throwing his arm out in an angry gesture, "The time of my life!"

He obviously wasn't, and Megatron would really rather not get into a drunken argument with an ex-colleague. Going back inside would feel too much like a retreat though, especially with Starscream staking his claim on the balcony. It would annoy the seeker to stay, and that was reason enough for him.

"You appear to have misplaced your date." He could hear Skywarp's hiccuping laugh from all the way out here.

A cube had appeared in Starscream right servo seemingly out of nowhere. Energon sloshed against the sides as he lifted it to his mouth, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"You clearly do," Starscream spat, face twisting, "When did you become such an old prude?"

Megatron was about to say that it only appeared that way because the seeker was acting more and more like a delinquent teenager every time they crossed paths, but the cube Starscream was holding looked like it was poised to be thrown at his helm.

"Here." Deciding to be the better mech, he extended his servo, hoping the seeker would take it before he finally did overbalance and fall off the wrong side of the balcony. Megatron would only be blamed for pushing him.

Starscream stared at the proffered servo, lips tight, before relenting with a roll of his optics. His servo landed in Megatron's. It was clammy with overcharge, but still the smooth delicate hand of a high caste prince. It didn't fit right against Megatron's own. Incompatible in incomprehensible ways.

Megatron frowned at he pulled the seeker to his pedes, digits closing around Starscream's smaller servo, thumb sliding across the smooth armour. He felt Starscream squeezing back, the tiny twitch of tightening digits.

"Fool," Megatron murmured when the seeker wobbled ridiculously, free servo waving about for balance until it caught against Megatron's chest. He watched as the seeker muttered angrily under his breath, adjusting himself so he was leant against Megatron's arm.

Only for balance, of course.

"If you let me fall, I'll kill you." Starscream threatened, helm low. He let Megatron guide him back into the hall, both servos gripping his now.

The party had continued to deteriorate in their brief absence. The once tasteful music had been swapped out for something heavier in bass, and distinctly human-sounding. It came as no surprise for Megatron to see Jazz at the speakers.

"Hey, Star!" Skywarp had managed to extract himself from his admirers and plant himself directly in their path, thwarting Megatron's escape plan. "You wanna dance?"

"He's taken," Megatron growled before really thinking about it. He released the seeker's servo to curl an arm around his waist, tucking Starscream close to his side to better prevent anyone from stealing the seeker out from under him.

Skywarp's optics widened. He backed off without a word, servos open in front of him. A few of the Autobots had noticed them now, helms bent as they murmured too each other, curious. Megatron felt oddly exposed.

Under their scrutiny, Starscream's servo went for the one Megatron had around his waist. Expecting to be shoved off, Megatron loosened his grip. But Starscream adjusted him instead, pushing the servo lower to cup his hip, settling in closer to Megatron, helm high again.

"Walk me out," The seeker demanded. He was all heavy and warm, lacking his usual poise, draped as he was against the former leader. Still, he took it in his stride, wearing Megatron like a socialite did fine Praxian jewellery as he stumbled his way to the door.

"Did you fly here?" Megatron asked when they made it out onto Prime's expansive landing platform. He couldn't see Starscream's ridiculously pimped out transport obediently waiting for him like it did at most functions. Perhaps it had finally summoned the sense to find a better employer than a drunken ex-Decepticon.

"Yes!" somehow offended, Starscream shrugged him off and stumbled a few paces away.

Megatron instinctively reached for him again, envisioning the ridiculous brat falling over the platform railing this time. Why didn't Starscream have the sense to just sit down and wait for the world to stop spinning?

"I'll call a transport," Megatron sighed, lifting his com.

"I'm flying," Starscream argued, like a petulant youngling.

"You'll fly into a window and break your neck," Megatron told him, already sending off a message hailing for pickup. "I'm sure they'll find some way to blame me for that too."

He moved to recollect the seeker, but Starscream quickened his pace to a hurried scamper. There was a muffled 'thoom' of thrusters igniting. The seeker jumped, gained half a second of flight time, before crashing back to the landing platform. Face down. Unmoving.

Megatron languidly strolled over to the prone seeker. Taking the sight in, committing it to his memory banks, before crouching down and slipping his servos under the seeker's limp arms. "Let's go," he sighed, lifting the groaning seeker back to his pedes.

* * *

Starscream spent the entire ride back to his apartment lying across the seats in the back of the transport, one arm hanging listlessly off the edge, the other thrown across his optics in typically melodramatic seeker fashion. Megatron stood off to the side and did his best to ignore him.

The transport took them up to the balcony of Starscream's apartment, but when it drifted to a stop, the seeker declined to move.

With a heavy sigh at the battle he knew lay before him, Megatron instructed the transport to wait.

Starscream didn't seem to want to go anywhere unless he was being carried, and Megatron wasn't going to lift a fully grown, military trained seeker bridal style no matter how sorry for himself he was feeling. The result was him awkwardly dragging a swearing Starscream off the transport and into the building.

The apartment was large and open plan. It's high ceiling was painted the same warm colour as the dawn sky, probably to trick the claustrophobic seeker in Starscream's dormant coding into thinking he was outside. The open archways and glass-less windows meant cool night air was breezing in from every direction. It wasn't half as gaudy as Megatron had feared it would be, but still typically opulent of someone raised among high caste nobility.

It was all the more ironic that Starscream was in such an undignified predicament.

"This is disgraceful," Megatron growled at him, somehow finding the generosity to throw the seeker onto a low lying, contemporary-looking couch rather than the floor. "What sort of state is this to get yourself into? In front of Autobots no less."

"Autobots?" Starscream said lazily, having arranged himself into an uncouth sort of sprawl across his couch, thighs and arms spread. "They were in worse 'states'."

Megatron had the distinct feeling he was being made fun of.

There was a energon dispenser on the far side of the room, and being the generous mech he was, Megatron moved to get the seeker a cube of low-grade to save Starscream from at least some of the pain of the next cycle's hangover.

"In my day," Megatron began, returning with the sickly pale cube of low-grade energon, "Drinking high-grade until we lost motor control wasn't considered 'fun'."

Starscream nearly spilled the low-grade down himself as he laughed. "Why?" He cringed as he took a sip, "High grade not exist back then?"

"Drink the low-grade, it'll dilute the charge," he moved around the couch and headed for the archway to the balcony, "And _don't_ call me,"

"Wait," Starscream called, helm popping up over the back of the couch, "You don't wanna stay?"

Megatron blinked, "And continue watching you make such an unparalleled fool of yourself?"

"Thought you would have enjoyed that..." Starscream's expression very slowly curled into a smirk. He ducked behind the couch coyly, so that just his dimmed optics were visible over the backrest, "Wanna watch me some more?"

A sky-blue servo lifted, and an elegant forefinger beckoned him closer.

Something warm brewed in the pit of Megatron's tank, a curious something that might only be reacting with the high-grade he had so neglectfully thrown into his systems. His pedes had carried him across the room almost on their own volition until he was leaning down over the back of the couch, into Starscream's personal space.

Starscream was still sprawled there, laid out, uncharacteristically submissive in both posture and expression. His smirk was gone, lips now parted, optics narrow slits of crimson light. Megatron leant in, and Starscream exhaled, his breath sweet and rich with high grade. He was very overcharged.

Megatron shuttered his optics, and straightened back up again.

"Hey," Starscream frowned, voice oddly soft, "Don't..."

"Sleep it off." Megatron said firmly, onlining his optics to give him a stern look, brushing away the seeker's attempts to reach for him again.

He turned away from Starscream's downtrodden expression and fled for the balcony before whatever witchcraft his former Second was utilising could catch him again.

Prime and his stupid parties.

* * *

Megatron had gotten himself out of the habit of checking the data-news ever since he started featuring so prominently in it. He received his current events entirely through Shockwave's daily memos, and it was considerably less infuriating than having to wade through paragraphs of biased journalism to find the real information.

He was dozing -helm only slightly fuzzy from the night before, listening to traffic drifting through the open window- when his com pinged.

He rolled onto his back and opened the message, expecting some last minute change to his schedule, or a political emergency. Starscream's number flashed on the screen, and Megatron was filled with instant horror when an image popped up. It was blurred, cropped, obviously copied off the front page of some disreputable media sight, and depicted himself in the act of hauling Starscream out of the back of the transport.

Megatron stared at it.

After what seemed like a lifetime, another message appeared. Text this time, reading, _It's a good look for us both, don't you think?_

 _You're an idiot_ , Megatron wrote back, and deactivated his com.


End file.
